


Spirit Companion (Some Ghosts Like It Hot)

by mitochondrials



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitochondrials/pseuds/mitochondrials
Summary: Bucky Barnes and the gang are your (way better than) average gang of ghost hunters taking on their next big haunt along the historic Route 66, when it so happens that Bucky attracts the attention of a nameless spirit during one of his impromptu spirit communication sessions.Or, as it's alternatively known, how Bucky unexpectedly dates a ghost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [superhusbands4ever (Potterwatch97)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potterwatch97/gifts).



> Written as part one of the several key exchanges happening in the 18+ WinterIron Discord Server. My prompt this time was: Supernatural AU with one of them as a demon.
> 
> Shoutout to [Blue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer) help with the title, and [Bill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/>Blue</a>%20for%20help%20with%20the%20title,%20and%20<a%20href=) and my lil worry goblin (no link for now) of a fiancée for beta'ing for me!~<3

Bucky picked up the dowsing rods, seating himself in a cross-legged position comfortably in the grass.

It was Route 66, and they’d all stopped for some coffee in the local dinner off the road for some lunch. It was beautiful; scenic, and all American, being one of the country's original highways. They decided to start in Chicago, driving along the Route as it traveled down towards Texas, and then straight through to California.

Most of the Route was known to be haunted. Haunted hotels, like California’s Hotel Monte Vista. The numerous Ghost Towns, and then the famously known Kimo Theatre in New Mexico, and the Lawler Ford Road in Missouri known as “Zombie Road”.

It was their whole shtick, him and Steve and Wanda and the gang. Hunting Ghosts. Particularly queer Ghosts. They were all queer; gay, trans, you name it. Most ghost hunters sorta blindly assumed a more heteronormative narrative about the past and the people who lived in it. But they were curious, and it was so obvious queer people have always been around since the beginning of time. Like,  no shit.

Wanda was a practicing witch and had some connections with another occultist who made those fancy ass pieces of equipment like spirit boxes and so on. Strange or something hilarious like that.

Bucky often preferred the dowsing rods. They were simple to use and easy to understand, the only downside being you could only ask yes or no questions. But it made sense maybe a ghost would have no fucking clue what a recorder was.

(Or, you know, sometimes these other supposed ghost hunters don’t realize English might not have been the native language hundreds of years ago. That always drove Bucky wild, the stupidity.)

He found himself a nice spot next to the trees aligned alongside the road. It wasn’t very noisy, as there was minimal traffic. Not to mention it was nearing autumn when everyone was starting school and the morning air was steadily becoming cooler. 

He closed his eyes and took a breath, centering himself like one would during meditation. His fingers tightly curled around the rods, and he held them up straight, parallel to each other as best as he could make them. They were hard to make move, but they were also easy to manipulate. The other downside.

Sensing the energy around him was always difficult. He mostly could only just feel the breeze lapping across his skin, or hear the trees rustling. But tension in the air was difficult to ignore. It was always heavy, suffocating the area around you. Didn’t have to be ghosts or a haunting, either.

Certainly didn’t feel that way now, seeing as Bucky was mostly curious because of the same old urban legends about demons and whatnot.

Except not all malicious spirits were demons, and not all demons were openly malicious. Spirits, more often than not, were very clever and dirty tricksters.

“Hold up,” Steve’s voice shook Bucky from his concentration. “It’s not wise to do this alone, remember.” He said, coming to sit across from Bucky in the grass.

Bucky snorted, blinking his eyes. “Yeah, so you can try to punch the air again and get yourself processed.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Listen, someone's gotta do it.”

Steve was a fucking five-foot-four punk who was probably the most skeptical out of all them and instantly assumed there was a demon involved. It was actually amazing he hadn’t memorized the Catholic ritual of blessing the four corners with holy water by now, he sure was always carrying the stuff, and seeing as he was a spitfire of lithe muscle and justice. In this case, it just so happened to be ghostly justice.

Spiritly justice?

“Alright, any undead queers here today?” Steve said, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath himself.

Bucky resisted the urge to groan. “Hello, if anyone’s there, is what he means. Because he’s an ass like that.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway.”

Sessions always started by everyone participating explaining themselves; their orientation, their gender. It was often always a pretty long introduction, since so many terms today are, well, so new and different. Most cultures and people from the past didn’t really use labels in the same way everybody does now, you know?

Also, it was kinda nice talking about themselves in a place of no judgment.

Er, mostly a place of no judgment. Someday Steve was bound to find a homophobic demon or something that wanted to murder him with that mouth of his.

“I should have grabbed a coke,” Steve said after a few minutes. The rods only moved when Bucky shifted his arms because god holding them was almost a chore. The air felt calm and relaxed, but it was always so hard to tell.

“Yeah, why don’t go grab me one as well. And another cheeseburger.” Bucky said, deciding to rest his hands a moment.

Steve scoffed, yet he was still getting back up. “Dr. Pepper, you mean?”

“Yup,” Bucky smacked his lips and repositioned his hands. “So, still curious if anyone’s there. I know Steve can be an obnoxious little ass.”

Without warning, the rods swung ‘round slightly, tilting to point behind Bucky’s back.

“I’m listening, hello?” Bucky said, softening his voice a little bit. “It’s okay.”

And then the rods shifted, pointing almost straight behind him.

Yes.

He tightened his grip, just in case. “Well hello,” he said, and wait for the rods to rotate back into a neutral position. “Is it okay if I ask you some questions?”

Slowly, just as before, the rods moved to say yes.

“Thank you,” He smiled. The questions were a little more cut and dry than the usual, simply because he hadn’t bothered to do any prior research of this particular diner. It probably didn’t have any info. Lots of places lack a lot, and it took a huge amount of resources to go digging through the city records and what-not.

“Did you die here?” He asked first.

The rods slowly moved to say no.

“That’s nice, at the very least. Who wants to die on the side of the road, or inside an old diner?” Uh, assuming they died recently. Which would have been doubly sucky. “Are you male?” He asked next.

The rods slowly moved to say no, pointing straight ahead of him towards the diner.

“Okay. Are you female?”

The rods slowly moved to say no.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re neither?”

The rods slowly moved to say yes.

“Nice. We don’t have a nonbinary member yet, so I’m a little bad at remembering that. As in, uh, that’s the term we like using today. Nonbinary. But asshat back in there, Stevie, he’s trans.” He said. “So honestly don’t be too scared of him. He’s like those little dogs that gotta mark their territory sometimes.”

“Hey!” Steve shouted, making Bucky jolt back.

“But I’m sure you can see what I mean,” Bucky grinned and readjusted himself back into position again while Steve set his Dr. Pepper in his lap, getting comfortable. “And, it’s nothing but the truth.”

Steve stuck his tongue out. “You can’t be too cautious. I’m sure you understand, and hello there. I’m also sure you know I’m Steve by now.”

“Nah, asshat,” Bucky said and howled in laughter when the rods slowly moved to say yes unprompted.

But then Bucky chill and the rods went slack. His spine startled to tingle, hot like he was being pricked with a sharp, heat needle. 

“Woa, fuck!” He tossed the rods on the ground and slid backward.

“What’s wrong, you okay!?” Steve was instantly on his feet again, ready for whatever it was Bucky needed.

“Fine,” Bucky swallowed, shaking his hands out. “M’fine. Sit down.” He assured half-heartedly. “Give me my burger, and just … leave the rods alone. Felt like something was mad we were disturbing the peace. Didn’t mean no harm, so let’s just chill out and eat our lunch.”

\---

Bucky was alone inside the RV they shared while Steve was busy doing maintenance on his truck. Wanda, Nat, and Sam were out in the pit-stops parking lot fiddling with the recorders while Bucky was enjoying his nice, fresh mug of coffee, checking with the motel for tomorrow.

It’d been two days since his and Steve’s little session outside that diner from miles back. Bucky logged the session in his notes for later and decided to ignore the way the bathroom door liked to slide open, seemingly all on its own.

His notes disappeared from the truck’s passenger seat onto Nat’s bed, neatly nested onto her pillow. But Bucky didn’t see any reason to connect the two together. Having something end up attached to them was a risk, and it did happen. And of course, it was always possible someone just moved his notes without meaning to.

Just like the bathroom door could be a bit loose.

\---

The motel was a street down from the main route, but it was cheap enough where every day could sleep in their own room.

Sharing a bed was the worst with Steve, he stole the blankets and loved kicking Bucky in his sleep. He was basically an ass all around, and Bucky wouldn’t have had it any other way. (It helps that Nat steals the good pillows, according to Wanda.)

The sheets itched, but they were warm, and all his tonight.

But maybe they itched a little too much when he woke the next morning snuggled to his pillow on the floor, the sheets clearly were thrown from the bed, and, oddly, the other pillow right next to him pressed up to the heater.

\---

Okay, maybe not so odd.

He decided to sleep in the bed of the truck the night after, letting Steve stay nestled inside the truck itself (Steve was sure damn small enough). The quilt was thrown out the side, and the second pillow he snatched for himself was right next time him as if someone was insisting they needed to be sleeping with him.

Welp.

Guess it was time to ask if anyone else was experiencing anything out of the usual. Then maybe he’d try using the rods again.

\---

“Yeah, I’ve noticed the bathroom door too.” Sam agreed, prepping himself a sandwich for lunch while Bucky slouched over the bench attached to the table. “But otherwise, same old, same old.”

“Probably from the other day. Kinda sweet they feel like they need to be next to me, whatever it is they are. I don’t really feel creeped out or anything. I’m mostly just baffled.” Bucky said. He’d already had two sandwiches and an iced tea.

They’d be ready to be off in another hour, and it was almost twelve hours to their first scheduled destination (because for some reason Nat had planned their trip backward, taking them to California instead of Chicago). Yet all Bucky could think about was that last slice of chocolate cake Nat stashed in the fridge.

“Maybe they’re warm,” Sam said.

Huh. Bucky would’ve never thought of that. “Yeah, maybe. A spirit that runs hot? I did feel really warm when I got freaked by whatever that was before, too.”

“Sounds like you should ask, I don’t know. Also sounds kinda eerie, in the that’s also a stupid idea kinda way.” Sam said, tossing Bucky a recorder.

“Uh-huh.” Bucky eyed him, catching the recorder with ease. “Lucky for you I’m not an idiot.”

Sam laughed, “Whatever you say, man. I’ll be outside testing the new electromagnetic detector outside if you need me.”

\---

It kept happening, Bucky noted. No matter where he slept, and regardless if he slept with blankets, a quilt, or even if he just had one single pillow.

In the case of the single pillow, he noted that it was out turned where his head was still on it, but allowed room for someone to squeeze their head next to him.

“Maybe somebody’s got a crush,” Nat teased idly.

“Maybe,” Bucky said.

Maybe indeed.

\---

It was very early the morning. They’d just recently crossed the Californian border and snagged some Wendy’s when Bucky decided he’d try a session while everyone was in the side store loading up on snacks.

He propped the dowsing rods onto the table, setting his fries and frosty on a plate while he set up the recorder. He supposed that’d be easier.

“So, uh, hey,” He said, switching the recorder on. “See this? I’m sure you have to have by now. But how about you come talk into this so you can tell me what’s going on. Are you the same spirit from the other day? The one that I felt send pinpricks up my spine?”

He babbled for a few minutes, dipping his fries in some mayonnaise (to everyone's consistent horror), and slowly sucking at his straw.

When he hit playback he almost dropped it; the faintest of voices could be heard mumbling between when he had asked about what was going on.

“Okay, hold on. I’m gonna have to enhance the audio, if you don’t mind waiting.”

Luckily his laptop was already open, he just had the connect the USB cord.

“But how about you come talk into this so you can tell me what’s going on.” He played back.

And then, “Lon--”, immediately right after.

“Lonely?” He asked. He tried upping the audio again, but it was still very faint. “You’re lonely huh? Wanna try again, or uh, maybe we can try the rods again? But I’m sure you’re aware they’re kinda a slight pain in the ass.”

There was a knock.

“Huh, wha--,” Oh. “Ohh~!” He smacked his forehead with his good hand. “Knock once for yes, two for no might be a little easier, yeah.”

There was another knock.

“You’ve got lots of energy to give, it seems.” Bucky smiled. “And you’re surprisingly intelligent ...By which I mean, most spirits aren’t known to be this active. Not like this, anyway. Right, continuing. You said you were lonely?”

Another knock.

Bucky nodded solemnly at that, “I’m sorry. And that’s why you followed me, huh, cause I guess you like me?”

A knock.

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “Sam says you might run warm, kicking off the sheets and the like.”

A knock.

“Alright. It’s fine so long as it's not cold. I don’t mind, really. Not if you just wanna be my friend.”

Another knock, and then it seemed as if the spirit decided to wander off for awhile.

Well, he supposed he could work with that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how mid-October became just posting on Halloween. But life comes at you fast sometimes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). So here we are with the final chapter of ghosty-demon (???) Tony. Not currently beta read, so any mistakes are def mine. 
> 
> Have a happy holiday everybody and enjoy!!

Steve threw Bucky’s leather jacket straight into his face.

“Pay attention, damn. You can flirt with your ghost bae later!” Steve said in a huff. They were working on editing through some of the footage they’d captured from the last two destinations.

Bucky tried not to flush, “Ghost Bae, really?” Just because he started sharing snuggles in the middle of the night and got occasional little wisps of warm air fanning across his cheeks that could be quick pecks on the cheek didn’t mean he and his spirit bud were dating. It made him feel weird enough (and beyond embarrassed) just entertaining the thought!

“Aw look, you’re blushing even now,” Steve smirked, victorious.

Bucky threw a fry back at him in retaliation. “I’m still not even sure what their name is.” He tried.

“Please. I’ve walked in on the couple times they started fooling around with the radio. Tony Bennett, Tony Perry; need I even have to go on?”

“Tony just so ...boring?” Bucky said, grimacing a little despite not really feeling all that bad about it. It was evident in their last two weeks that his Spirit Bud couldn’t have been a deceased human spirit.

First of all, what human spirit can suddenly make the room all nice and toasty warm? And second of all, Bucky had been stuck in the frustrating hell of getting no spiritual activity captured on his camera, his recorder, nothing! No one else was able to capture anything either while he was present, almost as if his Spirit Buddy was being overly protective of him.

Which was ... well, which was kinda sweet. But in his experience, human spirits didn’t really get that involved, or hell, have enough energy to thwarted other spirits off like that. So, hence; they called themselves Tony?

If Bucky was an inhuman spirit with the power to radiate epic warmth he sure as hell wouldn’t be calling himself Tony. Though, he’d really liked the idea of making everything extra nice and cold, just to fuck with everyone. He’d like to be called something super edgy, like, like The Winter Soldier or something just as awful sounding. All because he could, dammit!

“Think of all the really, really special kisses,” Steve said, winking, continuing his teasing.

“Man, shut up!” Bucky felt his ears turning red and he hated it! “I don’t even think spirits can even, you know, do that.”

Which was such a total lie, right out of his ass. Wanda had gone and discussed his spirit situation with their tech guy, Strange, who happened to be some kind of Spirit Worker/Witch himself. The guy sent him all sorts of articles and websites on Spirit Companions and spirit companionship. Spirits totally liked to date and get down and dirty with humans, that’s for sure. (Or at least, a decent portion of them anyway.)

There were conjurers and there were people who did what was called spirit calling. They’d put spirits into something known as a vessel that allowed the spirits a better way of preserving their precious energy. (Like when the room goes cold, or you feel yourself getting goosebumps in a supposedly haunted place it was theorized that it was the spirits taking your energy to use. They didn’t always have it to communicate or make things move, like so many ghost hunters often demanded pretty rudely.)

It was why Steve had Bucky’s jacket. His old, two-sizes-too-small jacket, specifically. Bucky had been starting to lay it over himself on top of his regular blankets when sleeping to help his Spirit Bud--Tony. To help Tony maybe attach to it, since he figured Tony might not like the idea of using a conjurer or a caller to do it for them. Tony seemed pretty uninterested in everyone else besides Bucky (and didn’t Bucky feel special for it, ehe).

Steve just snorted, finally returning to his laptop with the footage of his lovely yelling at ghosts montage inside the Kimo Theatre. Bucky had felt pretty smug about interrupting that one, seeing as the Kimo Theatre was supposedly haunted by a child killed in an explosion. But New Mexico’s part of Route 66 was one of Albuquerque’s main downtown streets, bustling with people out at clubs and partying, and generally wondering about that Bucky also felt slightly embarrassed having people curiously walking by, especially during the middle of the night.

He arranged the jacket to hang off the side of the bench that extended from the dining table where they were sitting in case maybe Tony decided to come watch. Not that Bucky could ever really tell when and where Tony was, often relying on those burst of wonderfully toasty air that brushed past every once and while. 

He so avoided looking at Steve as he thought that.

“Send me whatever else you got left since I got nothing much to do.” He said, popping open his own laptop and scrolling through some of the Companion Shops Strange had also linked. They had little Spirit Companion Starter kits that were honestly kinda cute when you thought about it.

“Mmm,” Steve nodded, and then they were quiet for a couple hours, silently rummaging through their long hours of video footage.

\---

Later that evening, while Bucky opted to stay with the cares while everyone else ran off to sightsee, Bucky pulled out his dowsing rods and necklace he used as a pendulum sometimes again.

“Okay, I’m all ears today Tony. See,” He smiled a little bashfully. “I can listen. Sometimes. And more than likely because of Stevie’s annoying fucking help. So it’s Tony then? Curious if that’s short for anything, cause, uh.” He paused. “Never mind about that last part.” He chuckled helplessly.

Slowly, within a few minutes, that gentle warmth Bucky knew to be Tony enveloped him, traveling down from the very tips of his fingers to his toes. Bucky rested the pendulum and rods on the dining table, certain he probably wouldn’t even use them. Tony preferred knocking, just as the very first couple of times. However, he did leave little whisperings for Bucky to try and interrupt for the recorder. All Bucky really had, though, was that first “Lonely” Tony ever left him.

The knocking was probably easier, but gosh did he hope the jacket worked out. It was from when he was in Basic, straight out of high school. His mother liked to keep his dog tags, and Becca, one of his sisters, hoarded all the family photo’s of him and Stevie in uniform that this jacket was all he really had to keep with him during his travels. He’d hope Steve might’ve liked to wear it. The punk ass bastard only stuck out his tongue and muttered, “Gross”, at the notion. Tony was so much more deserving, so hah!

He did actually send an email to Strange about it, though nothing yet. Strange was probably busy whipping up replacements for the camera Wanda accidentally dropped the other day.  It happens.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Bucky said, dashing to find the cookies he’d made earlier this morning right after everyone had woken up. They were simple sugar cookies, but he thought they’d make a nice offering of sorts. Spirit Companions and Spirits in general apparently liked that. It’s where he read that some Spirits except either time together and sex. Well, or sex. Or sexual energy. So, like masturbating he guessed. He pretended that didn’t make him feel all hot and bothered, either. He didn’t really know what Tony was besides not being human, not really.

Tony sure as hell didn’t say, and asking via knocks was unbelievably tiring (he was pretty sure he mentioned that before). Bucky kinda just rolled with it. He also, quite surprisingly, didn’t really know all that much about the different spirits. Different mythologies had vastly different ideas about what was what; another thing he decided to ask Strange.

A wisp of heat across his cheek had him sighing, and he touched a hand to it gently. Maybe, he uh, maybe he did possibly really indulged in the idea of dating a really sweet ghosty-ghoul.

“Ghosty-Ghoul,” He actually said out loud. “I’d say it sounds better than Spirit Bud, honestly. What do you say?”

A knock, meaning yes. 

Bucky smiled brighter. “I’m gonna keep the jacket right here, like always, and get started on reading some more Dorian Grey. Almost halfway now, and then maybe I’ll grab us some tea.” He said. What kinda spirit didn’t like tea, he thought. Hmm, “Assuming you’ll like Earl Grey, at least.” He added.

He totally wasn’t squealing inside his head when he could have sworn he felt a soft brush of warmth brush along his lips before he could even blink his eyes.

Nope, not at all.

(Steve was gonna have a fucking blast reaming him now!)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! 
> 
> This is officially my first chaptered WIP, and almost in perfect time for Halloween season too! I'm planning on at least one more chapter, which will be up sometime around mid-October (due to my unfortunately busy schedule right now). 
> 
> I based Bucky and CO on the very real [Queer Ghost Hunters](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCuS0vnksn0HGyFMY-9ZJ8Qw), whom everybody should check out because they deserve all the fans! They're not as "spooky" as most other ghost hunting shows, and are actually very silly and sweet.  
> Although I totally based Steve off Zak Bagins from Ghost Adventures a bit. Because, _honestly_. But I guarantee Steve is still much, much smarter.


End file.
